Travel Journal Number 46: Property of Kate Cold
by orphanactress818
Summary: City of the Beasts: Kate's account of the events that transpired. Written as an assignment for English.
1. The Beginning

Chapter One: The Beginning

May 27, 2002—1:56 am

I suppose it is fitting to open a new journal as another phase in my life is happening. Though it's probably a coincidence, it is quite unusual to start a new book at exactly the right time. Usually I end up documenting half of a trip in one book with the remaining half in another. This trip is quite important, however, so I am glad it will all end up together. Ugh! Listen to me rambling!

Alex arrived about 2 hours ago. By God, that boy was a mess! No backpack, filthy clothes, bloody hand, and looking like he was about to cry. Perhaps I should have picked him up... but what's done is done. I'm sure Alex learned a lesson about taking better care of his belongings. He will, after all, be accompanying me to the Amazon—he's got to learn to care for himself. Don't know what that son of mine was thinking, coddling a nearly grown boy like that!

I know I promised myself that if John wouldn't raise him up right, then I would do my dardnest to, but he did seem pretty broken up about his flute. I gave him Joseph's. Don't know what I was thinking. I probably shouldn't have; knowing Alexander he'll lose it somewhere in the Amazon, but, well, he is my grandson after all. Lord, if the boy heard me say that he'd think I'd gone soft! Can't go letting him have that impression. He needs a firm figure in his life and since nobody else seems to be volunteering to do any dirty work, I'll just have to take on the job myself. When it's all said and done, he'll thank me for it.

The preparations for the trip are almost complete. Alex and I will be leaving for Manaus in a couple of days. We'll meet Timothy, Juan, and that old loon Leblanc there then travel with our guide down river to Santa Maria de la Lluvia in his plane. Cesar Santos, I think his name was. Yes, that sounds about right. I heard he has a young daughter who will be staying behind; if Alexander isn't looking up to the trip I'll leave him there with her.

Hopefully we'll be able to find the Beast, though I doubt it. Ludovic Leblanc, whom I've never had the pleasure of meeting in person but know by reputation emailed yesterday–and heaven only knows how he got hold of my personal account—to welcome me aboard _his_ expedition. I had half a mind to set him straight right then, but managed to calm myself down before I hit 'send'. He is, after all, the major reason we even have funding for this project. But if he can get on my nerves this badly through email, God knows what I'll do once I actually see his pompous face.

Kate Cold


	2. From New York City to the Amazon

Chapter Two: From New York City to Santa Maria de la Lluvia

May 29, 2002—11:01 am

The plane is finally off. Thank goodness neither of us took much—luggage was hectic enough. Alexander looks fine so far; a little green around the gills maybe, but he should be fine. He's not my grandson for no reason, after all.

We should be in Manaus by 2. Unfortunately, I got a call from Santos yesterday saying he wouldn't be able to make it. We'll meet him in Santa Maria de la Lluvia. We're still meeting the rest of the expedition in Manaus as planned, however. It's exactly what I need—spending three days on a godforsaken boat in the middle of nowhere with that overbearing cow Leblanc.

I loaned Alexander some maps and books on the Amazon to look over. Can you believe the boy? He takes one geography class and thinks it will suffice for an actual trip! Well, I squashed that idea right in the bud, let me tell you! At least he's reading them; that's something. You never know when a book might save your life.

Kate Cold

May 30, 2002—9:30 am

Oh my goodness, last night was a NIGHTMARE! Music blaring and people screaming and that blasted Leblanc complaining everyone to death. I was barely awake enough to get out of bed this morning.

Well, in any case, it's officially the start of our journey. We left Manaus only about half an hour ago, but already the noises of the city are gone. The calm of the river has settled in and it would be perfect if that dratted anthropologist would go stuff himself in an alligator's mouth. Currently, he's showing off his admirable weapons to Dr. Omayra Torres, a doctor on board who wants to vaccinate the Indians. Honestly, there would be no need to vaccinate them if good-for-nothing gold diggers would stop invading their lands and spreading disease, but that's just me. She seems all right. Sure put Leblanc in his place a minute ago. There's something about her, though—just an underlying hint of... something. Ah well! I know I can be too nosy for my own good sometimes (and I for one, see no shame in reciting one's own faults), but this really is none of my business.

Kate Cold

June 1, 2002—10:24 am

It's been a pretty uneventful few days. I spent most of the trip so far making note of the flora and fauna for my article, and now there is nothing to do but sit and wait for the excitement to come and find us.

Alexander seems to be enjoying himself, at any rate. Why, only this morning, he went swimming with a dolphin! I'm starting to think there may be a little more spunk in the boy after all. These past few days, I've been watching him; he seems to be more comfortable than I thought among the wonders of nature. I've decided that no matter what, I'm not leaving him behind. This will be an extraordinary learning experience for him. And he does need the money to repair his room. Goodness, I almost had a kitten when I found out about that one. We've struck up a deal—he'll carry my things and I'll pay him for it. Another major factor in my decision to take him—how on earth will he earn his money if he's going to be lazing around Santa Maria de la Lluvia for a few weeks? I'm not going to be paying him for nothing, after all.

Kate Cold

June 1, 2002—8:19 pm

Well, I'm glad to say we've finally arrived in Santa Maria de la Lluvia. It's a tiny little town; only a few houses, a Catholic church, a tiny hospital, and an army barracks. We're a bit behind schedule because of the entire plane-breaking-down-and-having-to-take-a-boat delay, but we should be fine. I honestly don't think we're going to find this legendary Beast. Reports have said it's somewhat like the Yeti and should be, while not easy, not difficult either to catch. To that I say: Bah! Has anyone even _spotted_ the Yeti yet?! I didn't think so.

The guide, for one, seems to have a good head on his shoulders. Friendly, polite. I've got no complaints. He does seem to be rather taken with Torres, though. Then again, so does Leblanc. I am convinced that that man is the most arrogant, narrow-minded, ignorant fool I have ever met. I have to hand it to the doctor, though—she shut him down quick enough. Too bad he was too busy preening to notice.

The guide's daughter, on the other hand, is an intriguing one. Nadia Santos. A tiny little thing, but she carries herself with confidence and she has this little black monkey she claims she can communicate with. I, for one, think this is rather surprising, but I don't doubt her. She strikes me as the type of girl who could do anything if she put her mind to it. At any rate, Alexander seems rather taken with her. That's good. I hope she'll take his mind off that other girl he's got his sights set on—the one in California. Cecily, or Cynthia, or something. Not that I'm meddling, but I didn't like her one bit. Alexander may be a good for nothing pain, but he is my grandson, after all, and I'd much rather see him with this crazy Brazilian girl than that stuck-up Californian he's obsessed with.

Kate Cold


	3. Taking the First Step

Chapter Three: Taking the First Step

June 2, 2002—6:50 pm

We begin the next leg of our journey tomorrow—traveling down the Rio Negro by boat. Everything is packed and ready. It turns out Omayra Torres will be joining us; she says she wants to find the legendary People of the Mist and vaccinate them. All I have to say to that is: good luck. If they don't want to be found, they won't be.

Today we were invited to the home of the oh-so-esteemed Mauro Carias. I don't like that man one bit. Oh, he looks just fine, that's for sure, but there have been rumors of his criminal behavior and he's got this shifty feel about him. I don't like the way he was looking at Santos's daughter; like he wanted to steal her away simply because he could. His moods are awfully strange, too. He was completely pleasant until Santos shot his prized jaguar. Honestly, who threatens to kill a man for shooting an animal; that jaguar was miserable anyway.

That leads me to another strange occurrence—Alex. He stood in front of that cage for almost 10 minutes just staring at the beast, almost like he was communicating with it in some way. It's absurd, I know, but I was watching his face and he looked to be in another world altogether. Very unusual.

Kate Cold

June 3, 2002—9:54 am

Finally, we've set off. We are traveling by motorboat to the Upper Orinoco, then by Santos's plane to the mountains where, supposedly, this Beast resides.

All I can say is: I hope the rest of the trip won't be like today. It's only been an hour, but already I have a splitting headache and frazzled nerves, all thanks to one Ludovic Leblanc. How that man manages to be as infuriating as he is and not pop a vein is beyond me. We waited in the broiling heat for over half an hour as he argued the unbelievably stupid point of leaving Nadia Santos behind. Honestly! I wouldn't want to stay behind with that Mauro Carias either! At least the girl has common sense, unlike a certain other member of our party. Anyway, she insisted on coming and Leblanc insisted on leaving if she did, so finally, when my head was pounding so hard I could feel my eardrums vibrating, I intervened. God, I truly hope that man can just keep his mouth SHUT for the next few weeks before my temper finally takes hold of me and I take a blow at him.

Kate Cold

June 3, 2002—1:57 pm

Alex has just informed me of something that, although I do not find very surprising, is important enough to be worthy of a note. He said that last night he and Nadia came upon Carias and Captain Ariosto discussing plans to exterminate the Indians, presumably for the riches hidden in the land they're living on. I knew there was something wrong about that Carias. It's just frightening to know that he has the captain of the local troops on his side; he probably bribed him. I wonder if his so-called "connections" are how he gets away with so many crimes. Well, anyway, as I told Alex, all we can do is wait and watch. If Carias makes a move, I just hope we notice it in time.

Kate Cold


	4. Moving Upriver

Chapter Four: Moving Upriver

June 4, 2002—7:42 pm

We've just passed the area that many men searching for El Dorado have been reported missing at. The terrain is rough, the jungle dense, and the surroundings dank and mysterious. Our progress upriver has slowed somewhat from yesterday; the river has narrowed and there is no longer very much room to maneuver comfortably side by side—we've taken to moving the boats one in front of the other. It looks like we'll have to abandon water travel soon.

The wildlife, on the other hand, is astounding. Gigantic turtles, caimans, toucans, cockatoos, and even a nasty five-foot eel were spotted this morning. Some of the plants are rather interesting also—I've taken a try at sketching a few in my research notebook, but I'm afraid my pitiful drawings do them no justice. We also saw a flock of beautiful parrots and Leblanc, the fool tried to shoot one, claiming it was because he liked the feathers. Honestly! That man is going to get us all killed one day with his selfishness and arrogance and annoying little flights-of-fancy!

Alex has taken to playing his flute at odd times throughout the day. I must admit, he isn't as horrible as I thought, though he will probably never be as good as Joseph. Boroba, Nadia's little monkey, has seemed to have taken quite a liking to the boy. Even I have to say that as the hours grow longer, it is somewhat of a comfort to hear the sounds of the instrument.

Kate Cold

June 6, 2002—6:30 pm

A man died today—one of the soldiers traveling with us. He was shot through the heart with a foot-long arrow that Santos and the other guides agree came from an Indian blowgun. Amazing accuracy those native have; they pierced his heart cleanly from what was probably 10 feet away. We had a brief ceremony for him and left his body on the bank. We'll come back and retrieve his bones on our way downriver.

There's been high tension for the past few days—it feels like there's something following us. It's probably the superstition of the others onboard, but still, it makes me jumpy just hearing them talk about it.

Other than that, there's not much to report. Leblanc was being his usual moronic self, insisting he take a boat back to Santa Maria de la Lluvia himself and saying, and I quote, "Do you realize the loss to the scientific world it anything happened to Ludovic Leblanc?" Hah! The scientific world would probably cheer at the news. That selfish overgrown bat. Well, I shut him down right quick, let me tell you! I was hired to write an article, and write an article I will do.

Kate Cold


	5. From Bad to Worse

Chapter Five: From Bad to Worse

June 7, 2002—10:52 am

The journey seems to have gone from bad to worse. The vegetation is dense—we hardly ever see sunlight—and the river has become, if possible, even more narrow than before. The heat is suffocating and, though we all realize the dangers presented, we were forced to camp onshore last night.

Alexander seems to be doing well. Santos taught him how to shoot a gun last night and, though I wouldn't trust him with my life for a moment, he is pretty good with that thing. I just hope he won't ever have to use it.

Kate Cold

June 8, 2002—9:50 pm

Well, what a day we have had. We've stopped at what looks like a lagoon to camp for the night. Earlier, however, was when the real action was.

We arrived here at about noon and, since the water did look inviting, went for a swim. Within a few minutes however, an anaconda had attacked Gonzalez and was squeezing him to death. I must admit, I was rather proud of my grandson at his moment. As soon as he heard Gonzalez's scream, he swam right toward him and began trying to pull the snake off. To make a long story short, Santos cut the head of the anaconda off and Gonzalez lived. He is currently lying beside the fire drugged up on morphine and wrapped in mud and vines, which I am told by Nadia act as a sort of cast, to help immobilize him and ease the pain from several broken ribs. And what happened to the anaconda, you might ask? The men cut it up, roasted the meat the tacked the skin to a tree trunk to dry. I must say it is a truly incredible sight. Much better than that snake that ate my camera in Malaysia.

I probably won't be able to write much from here on out as we are almost at the Upper Orinoco and, searching for the Beast will take up quite a bit of time. I will try my best to keep this journal updated, but the expedition is my number one priority, after all. And, not to mention, looking out for that grandson of mine.

Kate Cold

June 9, 2002—2:48 am

We've just had quite a scare. This night has definitely been one of the worst. At first it was almost comical: a wild boar rushing into camp with Alexander screaming his head off, but then, things got worse. Another soldier was killed, but not by Indians. This time, I'm almost certain the Beast got to him. There was a horrible stench in the air and we found the soldier lying facedown among some ferns with his head twisted around backwards and his entire abdomen torn out. There were hundreds of insects swarming around the body, footprints and hairs that Alexander found and even a large pile of excrement which, I am amused to say, Leblanc fell into. I didn't want to admit it in front of the others, and especially in front of Alex and Nadia, but I truly do believe that this is the work of the Beast. I had Timothy take photographs and am also recording the incident in my research notebook to use in my article; I only hope no more accidents occur.

But why is the Beast attacking the people? Why has it only started recently? Is there more than one? There are so many questions; I only hope we can find some answers soon before we don't even have enough people left to conduct an expedition at all.

Kate Cold


	6. Waiting

Chapter Six: Waiting

June 9, 2002—6:32 am

We have decided to send Matuwe and one of the soldiers back downriver with Gonzalez to get him to the hospital in Santa Maria de la Lluvia and to get reinforcements from Ariosto. The rest of us will stay, hopefully to further investigate this Beast. Apparently, Leblanc has gotten it into his head that the only way to catch it is to trap it. Good luck with that, I say.

Kate Cold

June 9, 2002—7:55 pm

Leblanc's idea didn't work. The ground was too soft to dig so the plan of trapping the Beast in a hole was abandoned. Santos and Torres, meanwhile, are trying to attract Indians tribes into the area. Torres is still taken with her notion of vaccinating all the tribes in the region. I keep telling her that if they don't want to be found, they won't be, but she just goes about her business and doesn't listen. That's fine by me. It's not my job, anyway.

There has been increased tension in the camp; the Beast might still be around. Even though I know it probably isn't, I can't stop myself from watching Alex more closely. After all, John would never forgive me if I let his only son be eaten.

Kate Cold

June 10, 2002—about 6:00 pm

I wonder where Alex and Nadia disappeared to this afternoon. They keep running off into the jungle without a word to anyone. When they came back, they both look like they'd seen ghosts. Alex hasn't mentioned anything and I won't push it. He's been doing well thus far and I'm beginning to trust his judgment. I just hope he decides to tell me something before it's too late.

Kate Cold

June 11, 2002—7:37 pm

There's not much to report. Today was slow and boring. The only excitement—though it was probably more of a disaster than entertainment— was when Santos discovered that the two remaining soldiers had taken the second boat and fled downriver. Goodness, you should have seen Leblanc's face! He was mutinous. He decided that it was my fault that we were stuck in the middle of nowhere and began his crazy monkey dance, pointing and swearing he would ruin my career. He only wishes!

It's not such a big deal, after all. We've been here for three days now and the first boat should be in Santa Maria de la Lluvia by now; reinforcement can't be far behind. I must say, the children are holding up rather admirably—much better than Leblanc at any rate. The only major problem was at around noon when Alexander was bitten by a fire ant. The mark was nasty and must have hurt quite a bit, but he didn't let out much more than an initial scream. I've become more and more surprised by the boy—he isn't much at all like I thought he was.

The feeling of being watched has persisted and, I am afraid to say, a new tension has also struck the group. The competition for Dr. Torres's attention has escalated and has become rather annoying. There still seems to be something about her, something I can't quite put my finger on, that bothers me, but, as I said before, it really isn't my place to snoop. After all, the poor woman's got enough on her hands trying to deal with three love struck men.

Kate Cold


	7. Gone Missing

Chapter Seven: Gone Missing

June 12, 2002—about 1:30 am

Alex and Nadia have gone missing. The last I saw of them was about three hours ago when they disappeared into the forest again. They might just be hiding around, trying to scare us and rouse a little excitement in the camp, but still... Timothy keeps reassuring me that they're fine and it's all a prank, but they've been gone so long. Ooooh! If I find out that this was some stupid joke that one of them thought up, I am going to KILL that grandson of mine!

Kate Cold

June 12, 2002—9:03 am

It's been over 10 hours and neither of them has returned. Santos is getting ready to go into the jungle after them and I'm going with him. Even Timothy is showing worry and Torres is preparing medicines we might need. Leblanc is strutting about the camp pretending to be important, or, at least, he was until I socked him in the mouth. The only one who doesn't seem affected is Karakawe. I wonder if he's working for Carias—he might be the way he plans to exterminate the Indians.

Kate Cold

June 12, 2002—about 11:30 pm

Santos and I just returned to the camp. We walked about 6 miles in the direction I saw Alex and Nadia go, scouring the terrain and looking for places where they could be hiding or trapped or hurt. We didn't find and thing and had to turn back. God, where could those kids be! I swear, the moment I find Alexander, I'm going to skin him alive for making me go through this!

Kate Cold

June 13, 2002—4:19 am

I couldn't sleep. It's been over a day since those kids have gone missing. It doesn't exactly help that Leblanc has taken to walking around and making comments about savage Indians; I'm already worried enough as it is. Santos is already up and pacing, preparing for another daylong trek. I didn't want to tell him, but I am aching all over and rather badly, in fact. Old age is beginning to creep up on me. Oh, drat that grandson of mine! He'd better turn up soon.

Kate Cold

June 13, 2002—around 12 pm

We have returned, yet again, with weary feet and no children. I can tell even Santos is beginning to give up hope. Today we went in the same direction as before, but for about ten miles along a different path and, though we probably searched every inch of ground, we couldn't find them. How could they have possibly walked so far so fast? On this, I'm afraid Leblanc might be right. I guess our only hope is to pray that Alex and Nadia are still alive.

Kate Cold

June 14, 2002—12:59 pm

I'm going to start making only one entry a day—it takes too much effort to write about a search that is not progressing. After anther day of hiking, I can tell you that Alex and Nadia are still nowhere to be found. Santos is still holding onto the hope that his daughter is out there somewhere and wants to try again tomorrow, but I convinced him otherwise. I, for one, think it would be pointless to search the same places we have already gone over so many times. We've decided to wait until Captain Ariosto comes and use helicopters to try and find them.

Kate Cold


	8. The Artillery and the Children Arrive

Chapter Eight: The Artillery and Children Arrive

June 15, 2002—5:43 pm

The helicopters bearing the captain, a couple of soldiers, and Carias arrived this morning. We informed them of the missing children, but they insisted that we leave camp and ride with them to, what they believe, is the city of the People of the Mist. Honestly! Two adolescents missing for days and all they can think about is their damned money! Well, anyway, we arrived at the village and, seeing as we do have a job to do after all, Timothy and I began photographing and writing about everything we saw. It is a truly beautiful place, located at the top of an enormous waterfall with almost invisible huts arranged in a sort of circular pattern. We didn't see any people; they're probably all hiding and I don't blame them. Barging in on them like this, why they must be scared half to death! The captain and I have an agreement, however; tomorrow at noon we'll leave by copter to search the surrounding area for Alex and Nadia. In the meantime, I'll just have to do my job.

Kate Cold

June 16, 2002—8:34 pm

Goodness, it's been quite a day. Alex and Nadia returned this morning to the village of the People of the Mist, although God only knows how they knew where it was, the both of them looking the worse for wear. They were filthy with torn clothes and Alexander had an Indian haircut, a bag of what looked like arrows, and a huge cut on his head. I was so relieved to see him that I rushed toward him without thinking, but managed to calm myself before actually hugging him—I slapped him hard in the face instead. No less than he deserved; those kids turned the entire camp inside out looking for them.

They swore that they had gone of some grand adventure and that it was all for the better but I really don't believe them. They must have been captured by the Indians and fed some drug or something that produced hallucinations. The only problem with that is the arrows and some water that Alex says is from the Fountain of Youth and will cure his mother. It was all I could do to hug him. He is, after all of this, still a hopeful young boy.

Well, at any rate, it is good to have them back—Santos was beginning to drive me insane with his pacing. I am a bit upset at not being able to find the Beast but after Torres vaccinates the Indians, we're leaving. Leblanc is insisting and, for once, I have to agree with him. We've been here long enough already and John would probably want Alexander back in one piece; if we stay here much longer who knows what kind of trouble he could get into.

Kate Cold

June 17, 2002—11:56 am

It's been a slow day. The People of the Mist haven't turned up and Leblanc is beginning to get on my nerves. Strutting around camp accusing everyone of delaying his expedition, blaming each and every person for his non-discovery of the Beast. I sat, my hands twitching, but managed to restrain myself; another blow would probably put him into a coma. Not that that would be such a bad thing.

Kate Cold


	9. The People of the Mist

Chapter Nine: The People of the Mist

June 17, 2002—about 1:00 pm

Well, that was certainly an interesting encounter. Not a moment after I put down my pen, an incredibly ancient Indian woman simply appeared out of the forest like mist. It was incredible! Nadia conversed with her for a while and Timothy took pictures and videos—at least I'll have _something_ to use for my article. Iyomi, I think Nadia said her name was, left only a few minutes ago with a large bowl of food and a promise to bring the rest of the tribe, or so Nadia says. Really, that girl has an extraordinary gift for languages. Why, she couldn't have been among the tribe for more than a few days and already she has mastered their tongue. I wonder if her father would let me interview her for an article?

Kate Cold

June 17, 2002—3:48 pm

The entire tribe simply materialized right in front of us not an hour ago. Iyomi, women and children, and the men all in what looks like warrior paint with weapons in their hands. I'm beginning to believe this Iyomi woman is a pretty shrewd person—she saw right past Carias' smiling face and got her people prepared anyway. I had Timothy take pictures of everything.

Nadia had a long conversation with Iyomi, supposedly, got them to agree to come back tomorrow for the vaccines. I don't know how that girl did it, but she really is something amazing. The soldiers started handing out plastic trinkets and scarves as a peace offering, I know, but it still saddens me somewhat to think that this could probably be the end of the People of the Mist—with modernization their culture could be lost forever. I just hope my words can do this tribe justice.

Kate Cold

June 18, 2002—around 7:00 pm

Oh God, what a day. I'm only going to put a brief summary of the events here because all of this has already been recorded in my research notebook—the events of today will surely be making their way into my article.

First of all, tribe reappeared this morning with gifts, ready to be vaccinated. As they were waiting in line, Nadia and Alex knocked over the vials, screaming at the top of their lungs that the supposed vaccine would kill the Indians instead of help them. Well, to make a long story short, a battle ensued and secrets were revealed. Karakawe, whom everyone thought was the bad guy, was actually an officer for some sort of agency to protect the Indians. He was killed by Captain Ariosto, who, as I suspected, was working for Carias. What was really surprising, however, was Omayra Torres. Turns out that little lying leech was in love with Carias and working for him the entire time! I knew there was something fishy about her.

Anyway, a battle ensued leaving Carias with a split skull, Alexander with a bloody mouth and several soldiers and Indians dead. Leblanc, and I am surprised to say this, was actually useful; he ran into the midst of the battle to rescue an Indian baby whose mother had been killed. Unfortunately, he handed the thing to me. Goodness, it'd been so long since I'd held a baby in my arms; I hardly knew what to do with the thing. It... no, HE is sleeping now. I truly hope I'll live long enough to be able to return him to his people.

Of course, that all depends on Leblanc. For the first time since this trip began, the man has actually made himself useful. Right this moment, he is outside convincing Captain Ariosto to let half of his men leave in one helicopter. I must say, he is rather good at this whole sucking up business; I would have gotten pissed and blown my cover by now.

Kate Cold

June 18, 2002—about 11:00 pm

Nadia has just left the tent and gone into the woods, swearing she would be safe because she can make herself invisible. The child's gone delirious! You should have heard her this afternoon, breaking out in sobs out of nowhere sounding horribly like a screech owl. She'd better pray she really can be invisible. Ariosto and the soldiers are still out there.

Kate Cold

June 19, 2002—9:00 am

Alex and Nadia have gone missing again! I knew there was something wrong when she didn't come back last night. They'd better be all right. Santos has resumed his pacing and being alone in the tent with only the baby is driving me insane! I must say, though, Leblanc is doing a rather fine job of distracting Ariosto.

Kate Cold

June 19, 2002—5:31 pm

Not much to update on. We're still trapped here among Ariosto and his men and Alex and Nadia are still missing.

Kate Cold

June 20, 2002—around noon

Last night, I'm guessing we were sprayed by the stench of the Beast because this morning we found ourselves in a clearing surrounded by the People of the Mist. They must have dragged us here while we were still unconscious. The baby was returned to the tribe.

That Iyomi really is a piece of work. After delivering a long speech that no one could understand, she grabbed me by my shirt and started yelling at _me_! Well, I'll tell you, I yelled right back at her! It's been so long since I've had a good shouting match; it doesn't matter that I couldn't understand a word she was saying.

Currently, we're sitting in the middle of the clearing with the warriors of the tribe circled around us. The only person missing seems to be Captain Ariosto. I wonder if the Indians killed him. If they did, it serves him right.

Alex and Nadia have been returned. I suppose it was them that went to go fetch the Beast. I knew there was something about the creature that Alexander wasn't telling me. Oh, well. Now I'll never know. I guess I'll just have to focus my article on the tribe, with a little side speculation on the Beast, of course.

Kate Cold


	10. The End of Another Adventure

Chapter Ten: The End of Another Adventure

June 24, 2002—6:07 pm

I can't tell you how wonderful it is to be back in civilization again. I LOVE NEW YORK! These last few days have been absolutely crazy. We arrived back in Santa Maria de la Lluvia on the 21st, took a plane to Manaus on the 22nd, and just barely made the New York flight on the 23rd. Alex is on the couch, sleeping and, I must say, I'm exhausted too. I just wanted to document these last few events before I forget about them.

After we arrived in Santa Maria de la Lluvia, Santos revealed that he knew about Karakawe all along. We met us with Joel, who was being looked after by the nuns at the hospital and saw Carias get into his private plane to be flown to Manaus for intensive treatment, Torres sobbing on his shoulder the whole time. Apparently, his cracked skull will leave him with permanent brain damage, but Torres still refuses to let go of him. Her attraction is so obvious I feel like an idiot for not picking up on it before.

Timothy, Leblanc, and I have decided to use the evidence photographed to start a campaign for protecting the Indians. Although I don't particularly want to spend the rest of my life working with Leblanc, I can no longer deny that he isn't useful. Apparently, this trip gave him inspiration for a new book. Hopefully this one will be at least semi-truthful.

As for financial backing, Alexander gave me three egg-shaped rocks of what looks like crystal. He swears they're diamonds. I swear he's finally lost his marbles. Still, I'll have them examined, just to set his mind at ease.

I must admit, I am rather proud of Alexander. He's grown much more these past few weeks than I could have ever imagined. I'm sure John and Lisa will be equally proud (well, not exactly—maybe 'frightened' is more of the word) when he tells them of his exploits. The only problem is that he insists on me calling him Jaguar. I wonder why?

In summary, this trip has been a learning experience like no other. I didn't get the article I wanted, but, still, an opportunity to document the life of the People of the Mist, to me, seems even more important. My grandson grew up in that rainforest, I can tell. Something happened to him; it's almost like his old self died and he was completely reborn. As far as myself, I'm learned a few things too. For example, my new number one rule is to NEVER, EVER go ANYWHERE with Alexander again. He's bound to find trouble and, if he does, I don't think I'll be able to live through it again.

Kate Cold


End file.
